


Days & Nights

by Momma_Time



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural Beings, Supernatural Creatures, The Others - Freeform, hunter alex, hunter george, idk how else to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time
Summary: George Washington had never met anyone like Alexander Hamilton before, and he wasn't sure if anyone else had either. The young man was a scrappy fighter, reflecting his life on the streets as a kid, but there was also something elegantly feral about it. They made a great team as Hunters against the Others, but they would face worse.But what in the hell was Alexander?





	1. Hamilton On Your Side

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Spooky Hamilton](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263691) by [Momma_Time](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time). 



> So in my Spooky Hamilton series from October, I wrote up chapter 10 with the intention of maybe one day continuing it. I couldn't for the life of me figure out where I wanted to take it, so I never touched it until the last few days. Chapter 1 is chapter 10 from the other series.
> 
> The title comes from the song Days and Nights by Árstíðir.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hunters meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N For some reason, my computer was doubling the last lines of each paragraph for some dumb reason. I went back and fixed it, but if I missed anything, lemme know so that I can fix it.

They're right about a woman scorned.They're dangerous, like a Valkyrie from legend, they'd swoop in and run you through mercilessly, but they couldn't hold a candle to this adversary.

Which is how Washington found himself here, tied up and hoping that Hamilton would find him in time without being caught himself.

He and Hamilton. Hunter and Apprentice. Unlikely friends during the two wars that were happening simultaneously; the revolution against the British, and a battle between man and The Others. The British? They were child's play compared to The Others.

The Others were a horrifying mix of evil and deadly, usually disguised as women claiming to be bringing aid to Washington's troops (at the moment, although they took on different roles throughout history). He knew about their kind; his brother made sure he knew what to look for and how to kill them. It was their lanterns and black eyes that gave it away.They knew not to hunt in the day. Who would carry a lantern under the afternoon sun? Have it packed for travel, sure, but not to be used in the light of day.

And the eyes? No one had eyes that soulless. Washington had seen a few of them over the last year and knew that he had not managed to slay all of them when he'd get word that someone died from a wild animal attack. A random attack in a random place, the body shredded and the face the only thing left untouched. It was clean, free of blood and marks. That was how you knew it was The Others and not a rabid animal in the woods or fields. As they ripped you apart, they loved to see your face, unobstructed.

When he'd met Hamilton, he knew the young man had seen them before, had possibly even met one and walked away without a scratch. The boy had to have fought one off at some point, what with how he would always give the woods a wide berth when the sun wasn't up and was wary of any woman that approached their camps. There was a haunted expression anytime Washington caught Hamilton's odd behavior.Yes, Hamilton had seen something.

It was difficult not to see it.

It was not until one evening when they had gone for a private walk that he had proof of it. They both saw the light in the woods, felt the slight tug that urged them to walk towards it, to walk towards what felt like home.

Hamilton later said that he found the call easy to brush off. He'd never known what a real home felt like, and that's how he knew to stay away from it. It was unfamiliar, that warmth and comfort, and that was his warning flag.At the time, they had both drawn their pistols in tandem and checked that they were loaded, training them on the source of the light as they inched closer to the edge of the wood. The light seemed to meet them there, and the one carrying it was an elderly lady, one who claimed to be delivering a letter to someone who knew her grandson. She all but ignored Washington, seeming interested in his young aide, too interested for Washington's liking. Hamilton and Washington hardly glanced at one another before they fired, putting two bullets through her head.

A hiss and whine, high pitched and loud to their ears only, escaped the creature as it burned into a pile of dust.

"How did you first meet one?"

"When it took my brother from me. I had nothing but a fishing pike to run it through with. My brother was gone, and the creature was feasting on him by the time I got there." Hamilton put his gun back in his holster, not meeting Washington's eye as he did. He didn't often open up about his past, and despite their friendship, Washington knew very little. "One would think that they wouldn't occupy the islands, but these foul things are everywhere, it seems."

Washington put his own weapon away, staring at where the creature had been moments before. The fact that his friend, hardly a grown man, was so callous to the matter, disturbed him. It wasn't right that the young knew about these things. "May I ask how old you were?"

"Nine. My brother and I had gone fishing and were on our way home late in the evening." He was younger than Washington had expected, which was a painful thought. Hamilton put away his stoic mask and smiled easily at Washington, "Shall we go back? I think I am in need of a drink."

"I thought I had ordered that there would be no alcohol here." Washington's lips tugged into a small smirk.

Hamilton's smile broke into a satisfied grin, coupled with a light laugh, whispering secretively, "Well, just don't tell my boss and we should be OK."

The two shared a chuckle and Washington set a hand on Hamilton's back, guiding him back towards his tent. "I won't tell him if you don't."

After that, the two took more regular evening walks, always armed and ready for an attack from The Others. Washington shared the knowledge his brother had taught him, passing the torch, as it were, to Hamilton, who soaked it up greedily. The Others weren't the only things out there, but none of them bothered humans unless provoked. The Others were the savage exception.

The odd thing was when they did go hunting; The Others would always focus on Hamilton. Washington didn't know if it was because he was young and small, looking like less of a threat, or something else. Either way, it haunted him more as time went on and it kept happening. The few times they had crossed paths with other beings had the same results. Everything and everyone would look at Hamilton with the oddest expression or with more interest than was normal...They'd done well over the next year, picking the creatures off one by one, and there was that one time where they were up against five of them, wanting to avenge their kin. That had been mildly terrifying, but they had made it out alive with only a few bumps and bruises. Or, well, Hamilton had a broken wrist, his writing hand, and he moped for weeks until the doctor cleared him. He was insufferable.

When he was free of the brace and could write and fight again, Washington breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't like having to hunt on his own in the evenings, not after growing used to Hamilton's presence at his side. Hamilton would have been useless with a bum wrist; he would be a liability. Washington couldn't keep Hamilton safe AND get the job done. Sure, they watch each others' backs, but they couldn't put their full attention on one another in a fight; they could only remain aware of the other's presence so that they didn't accidentally shoot them.

A few more weeks of this is what led him here, bound and used as bait for Hamilton. The both of them had taken out dozens of the creatures and, like the time when Hamilton had broken his wrist, they were out for revenge. They'd beat and clawed at him, giving him a taste of what was coming; Washington hoped Hamilton got him out of this before that happened.He knew the kid was an excellent marksman, and his tactics in sneak attacks were the bain of some people's existence (the victims of a raid), but he was a wonder when he was in action. Washington knew that Hamilton should have his own battalion with his skill and ability to plan for anything, but he selfishly didn't want to lose him. Hamilton was too valuable on too many fronts to lose in the front lines. This adventure was pushing it.

The beauty of his abilities is something one must witness to understand.

He had his usual two pistols, and this time, he also brought his dagger. The two of them rarely brought them as it was too risky to have close combat with The Others, although, they should as one never knows what could happen. Washington knew it was cocky, which made it dangerous. After seeing Hamilton materialize from the shadows, blade raised until it was embedded in one of their skulls, he decided that yes, they should bring them more often.The boy fought as he may have on the streets growing up; he was ruthless and used anything and everything he could get his hands on like a cornered cat. It was inhuman, Washington once thought. Hackles raised, claws out, and flitting this way and that unpredictably; it was hard to land a hit on him in most fights. In close combat, he'd tease you, tire you out, before he'd down you with a single strike.

In this one, he downed one with his initial attack; his gun was raised in the other hand, and a bullet ripped through another's head with a crack. He took aim with it once more, using the last bullet before he had to reload, and promptly dropped it to pull out the other. After wounding one of them, he disappeared back into the shadows and slipped up behind Washington to cut the bindings on his wrist. Dropping a gun into Washington's hand, Hamilton disappeared once more. Together, the two of them took out the small gathering of Others.

Washington prided himself on his simplicity in a fight. Take them down and move on. Hamilton, as described, was like a cat; there was an elegance with his movements, even as he painted the ground with dust. Despite their differences in attacks, they had practiced, synchronized movements. They always knew where the other was in a fight, even as they dove into a whirlwind of chaotic motion. Maybe that's why they appreciated fighting side by side rather than with someone else. No one else would be capable of matching their compatibility.

With the fight won, the pair searched the surrounding area for any more of them before they met back in the middle and collapsed next to a tree together. Hamilton groaned dramatically and lazily turned his head to smile at Washington. "Not bad for an old man, but I didn't see you as the damsel in distress type. I could get used to it."

"One more word of that and you'll have KP duty for the next week."

"You wouldn't dare, sir. You like having me around too much. Besides, I doubt anyone would trust me around the food. There are too many enemies whose food and drink I'd be tempted to piss in." They shared another smile before they sighed and went back to catching their breath. "Seriously, though, are you alright sir?" Hamilton gestured to Washington's wounds with a frown.

"I'll live, but we should get back so they can be tended to." Washington pushed himself up slowly and offered Hamilton a hand up, "And then I think we both deserve a drink and a little extra sleep."

"I couldn't agree more sir." Hamilton fell into step with Washington after collecting his guns, wiping them down as they walked.

Washington broke the silence, "I have something I'd like to ask you, Hamilton." When Hamilton gestured for him to continue, the general forced out his question. "Do you know why they look at you the way they do? And not just them, but other creatures and beings."

The young man smiled slightly and gave a tiny nod, "I have a theory, sir." The general looked at him expectantly, and Hamilton responded with, "It's because I'm so damn cute."

Washington wouldn't get a straight answer out of him tonight; he had expected as much. Hamilton didn't divulge his secrets easily. "I hope that you can trust me with it someday."


	2. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get some answers.

Washington couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why the supernatural creatures and beings were so fascinated with Hamilton. He'd consulted every book on the supernatural to see if he could figure out what was going on with Hamilton. There were not many credible sources of information, and he eventually put the bug in a few ears about mediums to see if he could get a name in the gossip.  
  
Miraculously, he did.  
  
He scheduled a meeting with her in secret and Washington found himself in a secluded corner of a park in the nearest town. Washington brought Hamilton with him, but he had the young man sit some distance away while he conducted his "business." Hamilton was always happy to be at his side, always willing to be there and ready for orders before Washington even knew he was going to give one.  
  
The woman he met with was not what he was expecting. She certainly wasn't human, but no one would know that but him and Hamilton. Her eyes zeroed in on them as they approached and huffed.  
  
"Hunters...I'm meeting with Hunters, and that never ends well." She was beautiful, in an otherworldly way. The medium was just this side of too pretty, with a face that all but glowed with perfection. It took Washington a moment to realize that she was a type of demon, although he wasn't sure which kind, but one that was harmless unless provoked.  
  
"I just have a few questions I'd like to ask you." Washington wanted to be careful with how he approached this. He noted how she stared at Hamilton with a mix of awe, fear, and hunger; Washington didn't like that very much. "Hamilton, if you could make yourself comfortable over there so we may speak privately, I would appreciate it." It sounded like he was asking, but Hamilton knew an order when he heard one. After eying the demon suspiciously, he turned away and made for the spot Washington indicated.  
  
"You have a very odd specimen at your side. And under your orders as well." The demon's laugh was a nice sound that rang clearly in the air. Her sharp eyes flicked back to Washington and Washington felt like he was under the same intense focus Hamilton turned on him. "How did you come by him?"  
  
"He volunteered for the war, and I caught wind of his work ethic and intelligence. I felt that his talent was wasted on a battlefield and offered him a position as one of my aides. Hamilton has proven himself trustworthy enough to keep him close. He has yet to let me down." Washington tried not to sound too proud of his friend, but it leaked through anyway.  
  
"And I assume you've come to ask me about him? You don't know why we non-humans are interested in him?" She seemed smug; the demon knew something he didn't and was preening at the knowledge.  
  
"That's right."  
  
"I don't quite know either." What? She sounded like she did!  
  
"I'm afraid I don't follow. I thought that—"  
  
"You thought that I would know? I don't." She took a seat on the bench near them and made herself comfortable as she watched Hamilton in the distance. "He's rare, though, whatever he is. Something very old, something long forgotten from our memories. Where did he come from?"  
  
"The West Indies, but he's very tight-lipped about his past. Ashamed, as far as I can tell." Washington took a seat beside her, "I know that he's from the islands, he met one of the Others as a boy when he found one eating his brother. I know that he doesn't have any family left. That's it."  
  
"So Death follows him." The woman tapped a finger over her lips, silent as she tried to work out the puzzle. "I'm torn. He gives off a feeling like Death themselves, but also one of—I don't want to say angelic, because it's not, but there is something eerily pure about his soul. Being what I am, he's both intoxicating and repulsive. To the Others, the greatest feast to have ever wandered into their presence. As for other beings, it would depend on what they are. Some would be drawn to him, others repelled." She shrugged, "I really don't know."  
  
"I tried doing research, but I came up with nothing useful. My guess was that because of the tragedy he's seen, spirits would be drawn to him, and that's what would spark the interest of the supernatural." What a conundrum.  
  
"Yes, your silly books wouldn't have anything on him and his ilk. Have you just asked him?" She said it like it was the most simple and obvious course of action.  
  
Washington shook his head, "As I said, he's tight lipped, and I knew it wouldn't yield any results."  
  
The demon hummed softly in acknowledgment, falling silent again for a time. When she spoke, it was slow and measured. "Try observing his habits, likes and dislikes, how he fights, and if there's anything odd about him...My curiosity is piqued enough that I won't ask anything in return for doing my own research."  
  
"And I'm to trust you not to turn on us if you find out just like that?"  
  
Dark eyes bore holes into him, and Washington regretted asking. "I am a neutral being by nature. I do have urges, but not at the expense of others unless I'm desperate. I don't kill to kill if that's what you're implying. Nor do I randomly kidnap pretty specimens. Besides, finding out what he is could put us all in danger if the wrong sort were to find out."  
  
Washington had little choice but to accept that answer for now. "Thank you for your time. I do appreciate it."  
  
She nodded and stood with him, "You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some research to do on the boy." And just like that, she blinked out of existence. No smoke, no pops, nothing. She was just gone.  
  
With a tired sigh, Washington turned and motioned to Hamilton to join him again. He knew Hamilton would drill him with questions the moment they mounted their horses and made for camp again.  
  
"What was that about, sir?" And Washington never lied to Hamilton, had never wanted to; he didn't want to start but...  
  
"I was asking her about something we came across."  
  
"And I couldn't be involved in this conversation, why? Also, why were we meeting with a demon?" And there was the irritation that he felt left out.  
  
"The information was sensitive, and I want time to process it before I share it with you. I didn't know she would be until we got here. You know as well as I do that there are other beings under the term demon that are not of the Christian religion." Hamilton didn't like that answer, but he didn't ask him about it again. Washington needed any information he could get on Hamilton's past. He could ask now, or he could secretly ask someone to dig up the information for him. The latter wouldn't end well for their friendship.  
  
So he waited a while until he was sure that Hamilton wouldn't link his questions to what transpired at the small park.  
  
"Hamilton, may I ask you something? And don't feel pressured to say yes if you do not wish to."  
  
There was that focus on him again, like Hamilton could read him like a book and see into his soul. "Ask."  
  
"Can you—" Just ask it! "Can you tell me a little more about your beginnings?"  
  
Hamilton tensed and said nothing. Washington glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the younger man looking scared to answer, but also mulling it over. "I—can't. Not yet, sir."  
  
And that was that.


	3. Fireside Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is nearly kidnapped.  
> There's a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one of the famous scientists (can't remember which one) came out about three or so years ago saying that there's a slim chance of a superior being, but that there /could/ have been several alien lifeforms that formed the universe???? Idk how they came to that logic but okay.  
> Anyway, that's kind of where I got the idea for the Anwar. Anwar is actually a name that means light, I believe. It's that or champion, but I can't remember which at the moment and I'm too tired to go look it up rn. Either way, it'd fit in some way or another. I had a character who, in human verses, when by ___ Anwar, because he was a "champion of light" in main verses. So it fit, but I can't remember. Whoops.

So life continued as usual. They fought side-by-side in the war, both against humans and non-humans. Washington didn't ask Hamilton about his past again, didn't bother as he worked on his own research. It wouldn't have done any good to scare him off with how he wanted to know what happened. Hamilton was like a startled deer the moment he felt threatened by too many questions.  
  
Washington and Hamilton did grow closer, slowly. It wasn't until they were met with another horror that Hamilton finally stopped keeping Washington at arm's length.  
  
It started one evening when Washington was busy with something, and Hamilton went off on his own to patrol the borders of the plantation they were staying on for a time. Something about the whole thing felt wrong to Washington, like something was missing. After a time, he found he couldn't focus any longer on the letter and grabbed his gear. He'd find Hamilton and finish the letters in the morning.  
  
Washington was glad he did.  
  
Something was lurking in the shadows, stalking the lone figure in the distance, and Washington caught sight of it the moment it leaped towards Hamilton.  
  
"Alexander!"  
  
The shadowy thing fought with Hamilton on the ground, trying to tear at him as it let out an unholy screech. Hamilton struggled with it, but the creature got the upper hand enough to drag him towards the treeline. The noise didn't stop aside from sounding victorious.  
  
Washington tugged out his gun and dagger, chasing after it and Hamilton. He had to catch them before Hamilton was taken into the trees; he knew that he'd never see him again if Washington didn't stop it right then. He couldn't shoot at the creature, not without risking hitting Hamilton in the process; Washington saw himself as a good shot, but he knew better than to trust his firearm with perfect aim.  
  
He watched as Hamilton flailed around, clawing at the beast and trying to tug out his gun to shoot at it. Hamilton dropped it before he could, so his knife was next. He managed to stab into it, but that only made it move faster, even as it screamed in pain.  
  
It took far too long in his opinion, but Washington finally caught up enough to know that he could shoot at it and hit his mark. He hit the beast, felling it, and it writhed on the ground, continuing its awful screech. This gave Hamilton enough time to scurry to his feet and scramble away from it. He took his knife with him and held it into position to stop another attack if it leaped at him.  
  
Washington brushed passed him and retook aim, firing one shot after another into the beast until it stopped moving. After a moment of silence, the shadowy creature melted into the ground, leaving Washington and Hamilton alone in silence. Both were breathing heavily and were frozen to the spot. What the hell was that about.  
  
He looked back to his aide and took in how shaken he looked. Poor guy. "I do not think we should go separately anymore." Not with how fixated everything was with Hamilton.  
  
Hamilton could only nod, staring at the spot where the monster had melted into the ground. Washington held a hand out to him and pulled Hamilton to his feet; his hands were trembling in Washington's, and it worried the hell out of him. Hamilton didn't just get scared like this, not this easily.  
  
"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question. Of course, he wasn't okay. But he nodded anyway, silent as he clung to the hand Washington had offered him. Washington didn't mind that Hamilton didn't let go immediately, that he needed a moment of security; it could be expected.  
  
This vulnerability was such an odd sight to him. This strong, young man looked as if he were ready to fall out on the spot.  
  
In silence, Washington helped Hamilton back to the house they were staying in. They stopped in the kitchen, where Washington made Hamilton him some tea to calm himself. They never said a word, didn't need to as they let it set in that Hamilton was almost stolen away. If Washington hadn't followed his gut feeling, he might have never seen Hamilton again; he couldn't allow himself to imagine what a quiet and lonely existence that would be. Washington had grown attached to him and wanted to keep Hamilton safe from the dangers of the world. He knew he couldn't, and that Hamilton would hate him if he ever tried to force him. Their cautious but fond relationship would shatter in an instant.  
  
"Sir, can I stay with you tonight?" He sounded like a frightened child who had a nightmare; it broke Washington's heart.  
  
"Of course. Of course, you can, Alexander." He noted the brief hesitation in Hamilton's motions. Blink, and you'll miss it.  
  
Hamilton gave a soft hum and moved away to wash his cup, and then put it away. "Thank you, sir. I am sorry for--"  
  
"Alexander, do not be sorry. Please. I would want the same, to have someone I trust to stick around after something like that."  
  
"Why did you not ask it of me months ago? back when you were taken?" He looked over his shoulder at his commander with a concerned frown. "I would not have minded, sir."  
  
"I did not believe you would approve. You keep everyone at arm's length, and I doubted your willingness for the gesture." He saw the flash of hurt on Hamilton's face but didn't comment.  
  
Hamilton sighed and turned to face him, "You are my commander, and I am your aide; it is my duty to assist you in any way I can."  
  
"I would not take advantage of that willingness, Alexander." They stared one another down for a time before Washington turned away and left the kitchen, knowing that Hamilton would follow him without being told.  
  
The young man didn't bother stopping by his room to change into his night clothes, choosing instead to strip off his coat, socks, and shoes. It left him in his shirt and breeches, nothing more. His weapons and belts were left hanging on the side of a chair. Washington watched all of this, took in the smooth movements, but forced himself to look away and change into something clean to sleep in. He didn't mind that Hamilton wasn't changing; sheets could be washed.  
  
When they were both comfortable, Washington padded quietly across the room and plucked a stray piece of grass from Hamilton's hair, trying to fight the wry smile that tugged at his lips. "I did not notice this earlier." He tossed it into the small trash bucket beside his private desk and then made his way to the bed. Hamilton stood, frozen, for the briefest of moments as he tried to process the sudden closeness and familiarity that Washington was showing him.  
  
He finally let it sink in that he didn't have to be a startled deer around the man whenever he showed affection. Washington did it so rarely, and he did care for the wellbeing of his aides, notably Hamilton and Lafayette. Maybe he could trust him with this.  
  
After settling in under the blankets beside Washington, Washington leaned over to blow out the candle beside the bed. There was a dim fire that cast the room in shadows and a soft, orange glow. There was a beat of silence as they both relaxed into the blankets before Hamilton managed to tell Washington everything.  
  
"The Anwar were...An odd race. Very quiet, very secretive, and did what they could to stay away from public attention. Some beings do not mind humans who can see them, but many fear it. The Anwar did not mind." Hamilton fell silent as he struggled to piece together the right words. "They were, in appearances, human. And their societies were like those of humans, but they could...Do things? No. No, that's not right. Okay, remember the Titans and gods of Greek and Roman mythology? That was what the Anwar were, but there was nothing that kept them from interacting with humans; humans look like them for a reason. They did not just create the heavens and earth. Based on what is known about them, about us, it has always been understood that there is more out there than what we see on the Earth's surface. Yes, we see the stars and distant planets, but that was nothing new to the Anwar when the humans finally figured it out. They created everything; they know what they made."  
  
He gave Washington a moment to process it before continuing, "We are dying out, and I am not sure how many are left. My father is one, and, even if one of your parents is human, you are still a full-fledged Anwar. And because my father left when I was young, I do not know much more about us. I do not know everything that we can do. And if my mother knew more, she did not have a chance to tell me before she died--until a letter from Hercules arrived that I am too scared to open."

"Then what _do_ you know about what you can do?" Washington asked. None of it made sense to him.

Alex was even more reluctant to speak of that, eyes darting to the door of the bedroom in worry. Nothing was there, and honestly, the results of being caught laying with a man were far tamer than what would happen if someone knew what he was. "Well, Anwar made the universe, so creation is an obvious thing, although I have never mastered it. It has run away from me several times. When I was young, I could do enough to survive when I lost everything. Hey, food had to come from somewhere, even if it wasn't much. I was just a kid, I was weak compared to an adult, and I did not know enough to do more than bread here or there. It was not something that people could see me do either or the shit storm that would have caused..."

And the storm is something else. Grief has a way of pushing us beyond our boundaries. Leave it to build enough, and that power to create becomes deadly. And no matter how badly I wished that I could drown in the hurricane's floods, I couldn't die at the hand of my creation. It came from a desire to die after having lost everyone and everything, and not knowing what uncontrolled emotion could do. I know how to not create with my emotions, and I have not since the hurricane, not on purpose. I killed people doing that. Most of the island was just...gone. Because of me. In war? What are a few lives lost by my hand compared to an accident that stole hundreds from this world?" He couldn't look at Washington, didn't want to see the disgust or hatred for what he'd done.

There was none.

Washington, in a moment of compassion, reached out and gently turned Hamilton's face towards him, "We all make mistakes. I will not say that all is well, but I will not condemn you for an accident made in your youth."

Hamilton hadn't realized how badly he needed to hear that, but he couldn't allow himself to break down. Not now, at least.  
  
"So, yeah. That is why they look at me so. To capture or control me, to consume me, whatever they wish, it would be a terrible existence for me and anyone in their path. Immense power or not, I still do not know everything, and that makes me both a danger to this world and an asset to those who wish evil on it." Hamilton didn't mind that Washington had not released him, that he still forced Hamilton to maintain his intense gaze. It made him wish to squirm and flee, and yet it gave him some strange sense of peace. "I cannot always defend myself with that power." Because it was there, but he didn't really have them.  
  
"Then why in the hell are you out there hunting with me or on your own?" Washington propped himself up on one elbow, frowning with a worried pull to his brow. "If it is that dangerous, then Alexander, you should not--"  
  
Hamilton interrupted him, snapping, "Do not tell me what I should and should not do." The air seemed to be a bit stifling for a moment, but it quickly ceased. "I cannot sit by idly and wait for them to come for me. I will fight them, and I will do what I can to prevent them from hurting anyone."  
  
"But--"  
  
"No, sir." Hamilton rolled over, back to Washington. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything; Washington was going to be a mother hen now, and that was the last thing he wanted.  
  
Washington didn't press him for more, thankfully, but he did reach out to rest a gentle hand on Hamilton's side for comfort's sake. That was why Hamilton was here, after all. Like this, the pair fell asleep.


	4. TBDL

Hey guys!

 

I'm doing a Q&A project for class and need questions about my writing process or the stories themselves. Can y'all comment with a question or two for me please?

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu on Tumblr at ixhadbadxdays


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